


Of Snow and Hope

by VisionaryGalaxy



Series: A Thousand Futures of Me and You [30]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Boys In Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Snowfall of the year, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Sad and Sweet, Short & Sweet, Stephen Strange is in love, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 07:36:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16445570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VisionaryGalaxy/pseuds/VisionaryGalaxy
Summary: Stephen needs to think, Tony isn't one to give up easily.





	Of Snow and Hope

**Author's Note:**

> First snowfall of the year today which always inspires some sad sweetness.

   Stephen knew he should have seen this coming from a mile away. It had been ever lurking since the first time Tony had shot him a smile and attempted to goad him into the Avengers. It had creeped ever closer when Tony had one night asked him to dinner after brining over a makeshift contract should Stephen ever change his mind. It had breathed heavily on the back of his neck when after four months of dating, falling in love, and learning, Tony had made the suggestion again with a laugh and wave that said he knew Stephen wouldn’t say yes. It had petered shakily on the edge of a cliff when Tony arrived at the Sanctuary one night, beaten and exhausted after a battle and said with far less humor, that it would have been nice to have him there. Tonight, however, it had all come crashing down in front of Stephen’s eyes as Peter’s unconscious body was dragged into the Sanctuary, Tony yelling for help in a frighteningly broken voice, body shaking and desperate. It was this time that instead of joking offers, quiet exasperated suggestions, Tony had looked at him with accusing eyes and twisted expression of anger and betrayal that told Stephen exactly who was to blame for the body bleeding out in front of them.

   Stephen had the state of mind to turn away from Tony and see to Peter whose colour had been rapidly draining from his face, hadn’t dared ask questions, or even attempt to offer comfort to the man he loved. Instead, Stephen and Wong spent the next three hours repairing the damage done to Peter’s body. It had been delicate and painful work, delicate for Stephen, painful for Peter whose regenerative abilities had been reconnecting bones and linking ligaments together in such haste that he was coming together all wrong. Stephen asked Wong to lead Tony from the room when he had to start re-breaking bones, so they could set properly. He knew he still heard the screams but thought it best he not be present.

   When all was said and done, Peter had looked up at him with red, shiny eyes, with an expression tear streaked and pale and whispered in a horse broken voice ruined by pain “Thank you.” As though he had somehow achieved salvation through the agony Stephen had delivered with his hands. He had soothed the kid and shot him up with enough painkillers to make it as though every sting or pinch was happening on another plain of existence.

   He knew the next step was to inform Tony of what exactly happened, knew there would be a confrontation. Stephen had seen Tony furious before, knew intimately the swirling emotion that lit his eyes dangerously, the aura the made even the boldest fall silent in his presence, knew of the deceptive strength in his small form. He was well-aware what accusations would be thrown his way, this had been an Avengers’ battle that left Peter injured and broken. Tony wouldn’t care that the kid was going to be fine, good as new in a day or two, no he would latch onto the fact that it never would have happened if Stephen was there to begin with.

   Maybe he was right. Stephen was more then capable of taking on the average Avengers foe with little hassle, but that wasn’t why he turned down the constant advances to become a member. Tony had never seemed to take seriously the threat of inter-dimensional species, or reality crumbling entities, one foot remaining solidly planted in science and technology and the other but standing on tiptoes over the possibility of something bigger then all that. He had never held it against the man and it was proving to be a fatal mistake.

   He had turned the collar of the Cloak up, it was sliding along the edge of his cheek in understanding and adopting the familiar guard of cold indifference, he had found Tony in the kitchen, head down, hands wrapped tightly around a steaming coffee. He had delivered the news of Peter’s soon to be good health quickly and efficiently, had noted the relief in Tony’s eyes and gave Wong basic instructions for the kid’s welfare before making hasty retreat out the door, ignoring Tony’s confused call of his name. He had needed time to get out and think.

   And so that was what he was doing, he was seated on a cold wooden bench at a nearby park, a sharp wind stinging his skin and his ears, hands clasped between his legs to keep warm, and a consistent shiver working its way through him every few minutes, he closed his eyes and tilted his head up toward the sky. The Cloak had taken on the form of a scarf to match his other casual attire, though he doubted anyone would be in the park at this time of night. It was nearing eleven and the approaching winter weather sent the people into their heated refuge before the sun went down. Where he sat was a fair distance from the last streetlight, which was how Stephen preferred it, taking comfort in the dark and solitude, it let his mind wander appropriately.

   The Cloak seemed to thicken, become wider in an attempt to hold back the invading cold but Stephen simply patted in reassuringly, he would go back before hyperthermia set in of course, he wasn’t stupid. First, he needed to figure out how to handle Tony, the man who had stepped into his life after Titan like a whirlwind, with nosy questions, refreshing sarcasm, hopeful eyes, and eager heart.

   If Stephen was honest, it had taken him all of two weeks to realize the one and only Tony Stark was attempting to court him. It was ridiculously old fashion term that made him think of kings and princesses, matches of bravery and skill and all sorts of silly fairy tales, but there was really no other way to describe what Tony had done. He had been…skeptical at first, not just of Tony but of his intentions. Wong had oh so helpfully pointed out that besides his aborted relationship with Pepper the man was certainly not the type to pursue romantic interest.

   Stephen hadn’t minded really, he had flirted playfully along, graciously accepted offers to breakfast not dinner, kindly turned him away from anything that could be misconstrued as simply good friends, and had reciprocated basic professional courtesy .It wasn’t from lack of interest, the man was beautiful inside and out but from the knowledge that as Wong liked to say; two men of the same heart and broken mind, but of a life and soul that cannot bind. Apparently, Wong had taken an interest in proverbs at the time.

   Yet, he had agreed and kept a careful distance. All of which went to shit, in true Tony Stark style, when he had invited Stephen to the penthouse and as soon as Stephen entered he had loudly proclaimed that he loved him, and Stephen was being a complete twat to not at least give him the chance. The chance had come in the form of a desperate kiss, alcohol, and a much later night then he had promised Wong.

   He wasn’t proud of it exactly, though he certainly didn’t regret it. In the end of course, he had given in eagerly to Tony and so had begun a roller-coaster that appeared to be coming to a sudden and uneasy stop.

   Stephen hunched in on himself, attempting to warm his core a little more. The edge of the scarf flicked his cheek in disapproval, obviously wanting him to go back. He wasn’t ready, however, to face Tony and the apologetic glint that would be in his eye, the careful maneuvering of conversation so the elephant in the room wouldn’t be brought up. Which was the problem, Tony would act like nothing ever happened and he would let resentment build about joining the Avengers, about magic, about dozens of small things that complicated the lives of a Sorcerer and a Superhero who wanted a relatively normal relationship. No, the issue wasn’t Tony being so mad that he would break up with him, nothing so childish, the issue was whether Stephen wanted to drag this out like a car wreak waiting to happen, or rip it off like a band-aid with an angry sting.

   Something cool began to land on his face in tiny pinpricks, he opened his eyes and blinked in the dim light being cast by the distant street lamp to see snowflakes falling gracefully in tight little swirls with every gust of wind. Stephen smiled lightly, the first snowfall of the season, come to hide away the dirt and rot of those before it. It would coat the fields and trees with a pure white blanket and the promise of better things, one day, when the earth was ready to grow again.

   “Stephen.”

   He didn’t bother responding. Stephen continued his steady gaze at the falling flakes, one hand sneaking out from its’s hiding place to catch them, ignoring the growing numbness in his throbbing fingers. The footsteps came to stand next to him, a dark shape in his peripheral, oh so familiar. The bench shifted under added weight as Tony sat, there was a silent pause and then something warm and heavy settled around Stephen’s shoulders, the scent that rose up from the fabric of the jacket was intoxicating as if he was wrapped securely in Tony’s arms in that moment.

   “I’m sorry.”

   Stephen wished they could stay in the silence, it was much safer, no words to leave it leaden and heavy, no sounds to fill a void so tantalizing with unknown potential. But all things must come to an end eventually.

   “I know.” He breathed, lips moving slowly from the numbness.

   “I wasn’t thinking right, it was Peter.” The words are spoken in hushed painful tones, as though he too realized that the dark offered an anonymity, even to lovers.

   Stephen doesn’t point out all the other times he wasn’t thinking right, that did not involve Peter. He did not voice the growing fear inside him that Tony’s growing infatuation with him came not from Stephen the man, but Stephen the Sorcerer. Tony was so tired of fighting and in Stephen he saw a trump card, the erasure of risk. He wants to ask about his own battles, if he did not see that they mattered, that he couldn’t put one duty above the other. He doesn’t of course.

   “You should be with him.” He says instead, yearning for solitude yet again.

   Tony has shifted closer, not touching but closer. He gets the sense that where Stephen yearns for his peace Tony yearns for him. He doesn’t know what is real anymore, what this man feels beyond the comfort Stephen offers of body and mind.

   “No,” he disagrees quietly. “I’m where I should be.”

   “Go home Tony.” He says this without thinking, its only been four months and the Sanctuary is where they spend their days and nights more often then not. Tony never called it home, but he never objected to Stephen doing so for the both of them.

   “Come with me.”

   Stephen wants to shake his head. He feels the chill that has reached past the flimsy barrier of his shoes, his pants and is now seeping into the skin there as though trying to freeze him to the ground, he has half a mind to let it. Instead he reaches over blindly with one hand and it slips it into Tony’s waiting one, feels the gentle squeeze.

   “It won’t last.” He murmurs, knows Tony will understand.

   Warm lips press to his chilled hand, Stephen still doesn’t look at him. “Maybe,” he answers, ever the optimist. “But its not over yet.”

   Stephen does look at him now, sees flushed cheeks and a strange mix of scared, adoring, determined in his eyes that his just so Tony Stark that it makes his heart beat a painful rhythm behind his ribs. The way his body begins to flush with warmth, and the subtle surge of adrenalin is the same as the day they first kiss, the day Tony began this whirlwind. Its dangerous and tempting and just like the first time Stephen is drawn in all at once.

   He thinks if anyone can find a way its Tony Stark.

   He allows himself to be pulled to his feet, allows the warm hand to slide over his shoulders, allows the little kiss pressed to his lips, allows himself to be taken home, and finally like taking an awful and exhilarating leap, allows himself to hope.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Feedback is always appreciated :)


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